A Complex Design
by OddPotato
Summary: Arianna Weasley; Fine, I'll admit it. I'm a little too harsh on Wood. And yes, I know I'm basically inviting trouble. But you know what? It's not my fault I'm full of confusion this year. And it sure as hell isn't my fault that he looks attractive. So attractive that it makes me want to sno- strangle him.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

I brushed my Weasley red hair off my face as I directed another huff of annoyance to my twin. He continued reading his battered copy of '_A Beginner's Guide To Transfiguration' _in the middle of the bustling streets of Diagon Alley, paying no attention to our surroundings and unfortunately, ignoring me in the process. I was already used to my brother ignoring my ways, but today was different: We were lost. Mum had given Bill and Charlie, my two older brothers, the responsibility of buying our Hogwarts things before running off to stop Fred and George from putting salt into a bellowing Ron's cereal bowl and try to stop Ginny from throwing soggy bits of cereal absentmindedly. Bill set off to get our potion ingredients, leaving us with Charlie, who had abandoned us to have a snog with his girlfriend.

Somehow, in the midst of the busy crowd, Percy and I got pushed and tossed about until Percy decided to read the textbook and never leave this spot. But in all that misfortune, a burst of happiness came in the form of a Quidditch shop, a few shops away from where we were.

"Perce," I prodded him in the stomach with my finger with unnecessary force, enjoying the look on his face. "Peeeeeeercy."

"What, Arianna?" He snapped at me, pushing his spectacles further up the bridge of his nose. " Can't you see I'm reading?"

"I know, but," I said, hope clear on my features. "Can we go see the Nimbus 1700? Just for a while."

He paused his reading, giving me a stare which Fred and George named as the 'Bighead Percy Stare' and returned to his textbook, saying a short, "No."

I took a long, calming breath as I tried to resist the urge to strangle him. _There are too many witnesses, _I thought, _and__ besides, Mum would kill me. _  
I shuddered as I remember the time she yelled at me because I jumped off the tree with our old _Shooting Star. _I broke my left arm. At least I didn't break the broomstick.

I narrowed my eyes as the '_Quality Quidditch Supplies'_ signboard caught my eyes. I was going to catch a glimpse of the _Nimbus 1700 _today, no matter what. As my gaze darted from the shop that held the magnificent broomstick to Percy to the rusty chair placed a few meters away. My mind quickly came up with an idea and I hid my grin.

"Perce," I sighed his name with mock resignation. "Shouldn't we at least not stand in the middle of people's way?"

As if to prove my point, a balding man nearly tripped over Percy and sent a glare at our direction before walking away, muttering something about 'children nowadays'.

Percy agreed with my statement and he unknowingly followed me to the Quidditch shop, rambling nonsense as he did so.

"I don't understand your obsession with that violent sport," he said haughtily, encouraged when I nodded absently. I ducked under an arm as he continued, "You should take up a more beneficial hobby."

"Like what?" I muttered, walking faster.

Percy nearly fell over in surprise, thinking I was finally going to accept his advice, "Well," he beamed. "I have a few book recommendations for you. You'd love it."

I rolled my eyes, pursing my lips together to keep myself from laughing. We finally reach the rusty chair and he immediately sat on it, already immersed in the world of transfiguration and not bothering to offer me some place to sit. Not that it mattered, I wasn't going to sit anyway, but the gesture would've been nice. He lifted his head from the book, raising an eyebrow.

"What now?" Asked Percy.

"Oh, look!" I bounced in my place with excitement and impatience as I pointed to the sign that read, "_Quality Quidditch Supplies". _"What a coincidence! Hahahaha," His eyes widened in alarm as he took in my crazed expression. "I'll be going now!"

I raced off to the window of the shop, ignoring my brother's protests. The Nimbus 1700 was laying there, basking in the glory and light that it emitted. My mind went blank as the glass separating me from the majestic work of art called me over, pleading for me to smash my face against it. Who was I to deny it?

"Wow," I gasped, marveling at the smooth surface of the broomstick. I was blind to the fact that if you looked at me from inside the shop, I would've looked like a drooling goldfish.

"A beauty, isn't it?" I turned around to see a boy around my age, with brown hair and a Scottish accent, his face pressed against the window in a similar fashion to what I was doing. He stepped away from it, "But you probably wouldn't understand it, you're a girl."

"Excuse me," I glared at him, crossing my arms. "Who are you?"

"Oliver Wood," he announced proudly, also crossing his arms. "And you are?"

"Arianna Weasley," I said with narrowed eyes. "Girls are brilliant at Quidditch."

"Girls only pretend to like Quidditch, don't they?" he said, cocking his head to the side.

"I don't know about other girls but _I _don't pretend," I said, poking him in the chest. "I really like the Harpies."

"I don't like you," he said after a moment of thought. "So I think you can't play at all."

"I'll have you know that I'm a fairly decent chaser," I retorted.

"You'd have to be more than fairly decent to get past me," Oliver Wood said. "I'm a keeper."

"I can get past you," I said, my face becoming as red as my hair. "I bet you can't even stay on your broom for thirty seconds."

"I bet _you _can't mount your broom," He argued. "And Puddlemere United is a million times better than the Holyhead Harpies." He uncrossed his arms, revealing Puddlemere United's emblem on his navy blue jersey.

"I hope you're in Slytherin," I scowled at him, having no more insults to throw at him.

"I hope you're in Hufflepuff," he smirked back.

"What's wrong with Hufflepuff?" I asked, frowning. "They're nice, aren't they?"

"What the hell's a Hufflepuff, huh, Weasley?" he replied and I had the strong urge to wipe off his annoying smirk.

"I hate you," I turned around quickly, finding pleasure in whipping his face with my long hair. Finally, one good use for long hair.

Out of the corner of my eye, Oliver Wood stuck his tongue out at me after yelling, "I hate you too!"

"Arianna," Bill called as he squeezed past the crowd of people. He caught my eye and panted out, trying to catch his breath. "Figured you'd be here. Let's go, we have to get your robes."

I turned around, making a face at Oliver Wood, "Bye, prat."

He returned my gesture, scrunching his own face at me.

"So," Bill asked, amusement sparkling in his eyes as we walked away from the prat and the Quidditch shop. "Who's that boyfriend of yours?"

I hugged my brother's arm tightly as I scowled at him, "A daft hippogriff."

* * *

Soo... this idea has been stuck in my head for a year, and I've finally gotten enough courage to write it out. How is it? You'd get some butterbeer if you review! (:  
Thanks to my brill beta, justawriter33!


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Much love for all the reviews, favourites and alerts! Sorry for the wait. Will be edited later._

I walked towards my best friends, Ava Hemmings and Leslie Kent, dragging my trunk with my right hand, my other preoccupied with a sandwich my mum gave me ("I'd better not get any letters from McGonagall this year"). I stopped directly in front of them, beaming as they took in my shiny badge with a 'P' on it that was pinned to my collar. I had somehow managed to persuade Percy to polish it when he wasn't too busy polishing his 'Head Boy' badge. Prat. He had to go and upstage me.

"They didn't fire you?" Leslie raised an eyebrow at me before we made our way in the Hogwarts Express, trying to find an empty compartment.

"They didn't fire me," I echoed joyfully. My smile began to fade as I remembered what Wood was. I added sulkily, "I'd rather be the Quidditch captain."

"You said that last year," Leslie said nonchalantly as Ava stifled a giggle.

Ava shook her head with a small smile. "Oh, Arianna. We all know about your love for Wood."

I froze, my arms wobbling dangerously under the weight of my trunk. I pursed my lips and put my trunk away before facing her with a glare. "What bloody love?" I growled.

"Shit, Ava," Leslie muttered under her breath, frowning at Ava. "You've made her start again."

I sat down with crossed arms and declared, "The day I like Oliver sodding Wood is the day I-"

"Hate Quidditch," they chorused together.

I continued, ignoring them, "And I'd rather be-"

"Eaten by a Hippogriff," they said, rolling their eyes in sync.

"Really, Arianna. You should come up with better insults," Leslie rubbed her hands together as she eyed my sandwich.

"You keep reusing them, it's getting repetitive," Ava smiled, the dimples in her cheeks showing. Leslie leaned over and snatched my sandwiches away, her eyes filled with glee.

"You're helping me think up better ones, then," I slumped against my seat.

I fell silent and fiddled with my fingers as Ava shushed me and snapped her favourite muggle book open, _Pride and Prejudice _by Jane Austen. Ava was heavily influenced by her mother (Ava's a half-blood, her dad was apparently in Hufflepuff) who encouraged her to read muggle classic books. Leslie is a muggle-born and like me, had no care for books.

I took the other half of my sandwich and closed my eyes as I bit it. The crisp lettuce and the saltiness of the bacon spread through my mouth and I just about stopped myself from moaning.

Leslie made some odd sound of satisfaction and licked her fingers after popping the last bit of sandwich into her mouth, "I love your mum's cooking."

Ava looked up from her book and grimaced. "That's disgusting, Leslie," Said Ava.

"What's so disgusting about liking my mother's cooking?" I asked, bewildered.

"No, not that," Ava replied, laying her book aside and pointed to the drool dripping down Leslie's mouth. "That."

"Oh, that," Leslie relaxed. "Who cares about tha-"

The doors burst open, revealing the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, aside from Harry Potter. The poor kid was probably hanging out with Ron. I hope his head doesn't burst after hearing all the nonsense Ron sprouts.

Nope, I'm joking, Ron's okay. Says "bloody hell" to much and anything that comes out of his mouth is useless, but he's a decent brother, easy to threaten and all that mushy family things.

"We're sitting here," Wood's declaration snaps me out of my reverie. He stored his trunk with ours as the others trudged in gloomily, probably dragged in by Wood to encourage 'team-bonding'. I think we've bonded enough after our sessions of 'Wood bashing' after an early Quidditch practice. I bash Wood every second I can, and it's nice to get people who feel the same, however brief their feeling of hate is.

"We did-" I shuffled in my seat as Wood held up a finger.

"Do any of you know where Potter is?" He asked.

"No." Harry was three compartments away. I continued, glaring, "We didn't say you could sit with us." Angelina and Alicia brightened up and stood up to leave. "The rest of you can stay, though," I added cheekily.

"Eff you, Weasley," Alicia muttered and Angelina mimed strangling me on the seat. Fred and George joined Angelina and pretended to strangle themselves while Leslie, Ava and Alicia stared intently at us.

"What if I don't want to go away?" he taunted, his lips curled into a smirk. Alicia, who was beside me, urged the others to scoot over to the edge of the seat with a glint in her eye, leaving a space between me and her.

"Not my problem," I said smugly.

"Besides," he ignored me, continuing his task of 'Annoying Arianna Weasley on the way to Hogwarts.' "I don't need your permission."

"Uh." I said the first thing that came to my mind, "Chivalry! I thought you were a Gryffindor."

"Fine then," he rolled his eyes. "Oi, Hemmings, Kent!"

All heads that weren't already facing us snapped to our direction.

"What?" Leslie asked, her lips quirked at the corners.

"Can I sit here?"

Leslie put on a blank expression and drawled, imitating Snape's tone, "Obviously."

Ava, the kinder one, decided to grace him with a smile instead of pulling a Snape, "You're always welcomed to join us, remember that. Especially if Arianna is with us."

No, I changed my mind. Leslie is kinder.

The others laughed as I sulked and Wood shrugged and said a thank you that could barely be heard over the laughing.

George wiped off an imaginary tear and sighed, "Ava, Ava, Ava. You should stay with us during the holidays."

"Arianna never shuts up," Fred agreed.

"That bloody Wood," George said, his voice unnaturally high.

"Oh, I want to murder Wood," Fred added, also doing a very bad imitation of me.

Wood plopped himself on the seat beside me, listening to the twins' every words. Realization dawned on me as Alicia leaned over to give me a brief smirk. It was payback for me making them stay here. I smashed myself to the wall, trying to distance myself from him as far as I could.

"… And the best thing she said this summer," George bounced in his seat excitedly.

No, not that, please, not in front of Wood.

"Does this broomstick make my arse look fat?" Fred cackled and Wood gave him a disbelieving look over the second bout of laughter.

I only said that because I watched too much muggle soap operas after a visit to Leslie's.

"We all know they're going to end up shagging," Leslie said.

I gaped as Wood nudged me and whispered in my ear, "Well, we're going to prove them wrong. Unless…" He raised an eyebrow suggestively, "Unless you want me."

My mouth open even wider as I stuttered, "Wha- what did you?"

"Bad images, bad images," the twins wailed and Angelina conked Fred on the head.

"Grow up," Angelina reprimanded a pouting Fred. "Anyway, what did you do for your summers?"

"Went to France," Alicia said with a dreamy look.

"All the hot boys," Leslie gasped.

Angelina nodded, "And I got to join Alicia. One of the perks of being her best friend."

Alicia added, a hand to her chest, "I know, I know, I'm brilliant."

"What's wrong with English men?" George asked loudly.

"Loads of women want English men," Fred said. "They really want us."

"We don't care about you two," Leslie waved them off.

"For what it counts, I think you both are decent blokes," Ava said quietly.

"Thank you, Ava," They said in unison. George added under his breath, "At least someone has seen the light."

The trolley came and left much less heavier. Leslie, Alicia and two and a quarter (Wood was hadn't enough balls to pass off as a full bloke) of the boys bought mountains of snacks, all stuffing it into their mouths like they hadn't seen food for a month. Ava and Angelina ate their cauldron cakes and chocolate frogs daintily, swallowing their mouthfuls before laughing at Wood who was gagging and holding a fistful of colourful Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans. I spared some of my money for two packets of liquorice wands –my obsession, leaving the rest of the galleons in my pocket for a better broomstick.

"When are the Quidditch practices starting?" I asked, trying to be civil. Tried. Didn't work. "Oi, arse."

"We can start earlier this year," Wood said firmly as he looked around the room to make sure everyone was looking. "We have enough players, no need for tryouts."

"We should make morning runs mandatory," I offered.

Wood eyed me with suspicion before relenting, "That's a good idea, actually. How about 10 laps around the Quidditch pitch for every minute a person lost by being late?"

"That's brilliant," I nodded enthusiastically.

"No," Alicia groaned. "You know it's bad if they start agreeing on things."

"I'd have to run fifty laps if I was five minutes late," Fred said, stricken with horror.

"Don't come late then," Wood said as I said, "Too bad."

"Another twenty laps for every single time a person doesn't listen," Wood added nonchalantly, glancing at me from the corner of his eye.

I agreed with him again and Angelina gaped, "But we'll be exhausted after all that and training." She turned towards me, "And you'll probably die for not listening."

"I'm the unofficial co-captain," I said, Wood's words ringing in my ear. _'I'd rather rot in hell than spend any more of my time talking to you, but for the sake of the team...' _I sat up straighter, "I can handle a few laps around the pitch."

"This shit is entertaining," Leslie mumbled to Ava who suppressed a smile.

"I'll quit," George raised an arm. "I'd rather not die young, thanks."

"Fine, fine," Wood snapped. "I'll revise the plans, I'll rev-"  
The train halted abruptly and the compartment was pitch black. Ava screamed as my half-finished packet of liquorice wands fell to the floor with a loud thud and Alicia shushed her. The rain got heavier and it sounded like pebbles when it hit the window.

"We aren't at Hogwarts," Leslie said, alarmed. "Why isn't the train moving?"

"I don't know, maybe we've broken do-" Fred began.

The doors of the compartment opened with a loud bang and we all jumped in our seats, my heart beating faster.

I squinted at the stranger and the person felt the door and stepped in, almost tripping over my leg.

"Ouch, sorry, I'm looking for Ron."

"Ginny, is that you?" One of the twins asked.

"Fred, George? D'you know where Ron is? He's probably with Harry, if you've seen him," Ginny asked from beside the door, not moving an inch.

"We don't kn-" Wood started.

I cut him off, "He's three compartments away, to your left." I couldn't see Wood but I got the sense that he was glaring at me. "Why don't you stay here 'till it's safe?"

"Arianna?" Ginny asked. "Oh, never mind, I'll just head to Ron, maybe Hermione'll know what's going on..." She closed the door slowly.

Yeah, trust a third year but don't trust your seventh year sister. A cat howled from somewhere and I instantly brought my legs up on the seat, trying to scan the floor for the pest. I shuddered, pulling my cardigan tighter.

"You lied to me about Potter," He accused and I could feel his glare.

"Not now," Angelina snapped. "Is it me or has the room-"

"Gotten colder?" All of us said in unison.

"The glass," Ava panicked. "The glass is freezing."

The once transparent glass was getting whiter and whiter as the cold crept up until it was fully white.

"It's frozen solid," One of the twins said in awe.

"Get away from it, sit on the floor or-" A cold whoosh of air stopped me as the doors opened once a again, revealing a cloaked... thing. The entire compartment fell silent and a sense of dread filled the air, like there was no reason to live... All at once, memories began to flash through my mind, memories I wasn't fond of, that I tried to forget. Aunt Muriel crinkled her nose in disgust as she tapped me on the shoulder, _'You'll never be a Quidditch player, why don't you be a healer, instead of wasting your time?' _Her face transformed to McGonagall's, her face stern but her eyes were filled with pity, _'Your sister is in the chamber of secrets.' _Her bright, Gryffindor coloured office turned into the Quidditch pitch, where I was fifteen minutes early, with Wood saying, _'I'd rather rot in hell than spend any more of my time talking to you...'_

The cloaked figure glided away to the next compartment, leaving behind eight paled teenagers. The lights snapped back on and I narrowed my eyes as the light flooded the room. When my eyes had finally adjusted, my gaze landed on the unmoving twins.

"Fred? George?" I croaked out. "Are you okay?"

"Dementor?" George looked up from his lap and he tried to joke, "Glad it didn't kiss me."

"Not funny," Wood groaned when the door opened again. A tired looking man in scruffy clothes that had patches here and there gave a smile, in his hands a gigantic slab of chocolate.

"Eat this, you'll feel better," He broke off eight pieces and handed it over before going off.

I had no mood for chocolate or any kind of food but Leslie, who had popped it in her mouth the second she got it, got back some colour in her face and insisted that we eat it. The chocolate spread a warm feeling over my body and the man was right, it made us feel better.  
"Do you wonder why he just had a big slab of chocolate on him?" Ava asked.

They chatted throughout the journey to Hogwarts, coming up with theories about the dementors and how the year would go for us. Every once in a while, I'd see Wood glance at me from the corner of my eye but I just couldn't bother talking. The chocolate didn't take this nagging feeling the dementor gave me. I got why I was sad, terrified in the first two memories but I couldn't wrap my finger over the last one about Wood. I got loads of criticism in my life, and I could just shrug it off, and Wood's insult was no different, so why did I feel so torn over it?

* * *

Our bellies full with food from the feast and heads filled with information about the dementors, we flopped on our comfortable beds. Leslie was already snoring and Ava mumbled a soft good night. I lay down on the bed, arms positioned underneath my head. I didn't know why, but I felt that Hogwarts was going to be different this year. And it would be my last year, I'd never see the common room ever again, or feel the exhilaration of running and hiding from Filch or catch students roaming after curfew and give detentions so easily like breathing air. I stopped mid thought as it hit me. I didn't go to the prefect's meeting in the train. Percy is going to kill me.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Thanks for the reviews, favourites and alerts! Hope you enjoy it. Much love._

* * *

"I won't tolerate any more of your nonsense," Percy stabbed his bacon with unnecessary force, making me cringe at the sound of his fork against the plate. "And you're a seventh year! You're supposed to set an example to the younger prefects."

"I'm sorry, I forgot," I said, dumping some blueberries on a buttered piece of toast. I leaned over the table, trying to reach for the bacon that Percy was holding out of my reach. After three unsuccessful attempts, I sat down with a sigh. "Bacon, please."

"How could you forget about the first prefects' meeting?" he asked, still holding the bacon above some first year who was too afraid to say anything about the oil that was dripping from the bowl to his head. "I reminded you!"

"I'm sorry," I repeated, trying my best to sound sincere as I prodded my sandwich. It was unfinished without some meat and I was too lazy to dig my wand out of my unorganized bag to _accio _it. "You should've reminded me more."

He pulled at his hair in exasperation, took in a deep breath and let it out as a sigh. He trusted a slip of parchment with his girly handwriting at me, "Your schedule. Don't miss your patrols." And with that simple sentence, I was forgiven. Sort of.

"Bacon, Percy," my voice came out muffled as I tried to hide a grin underneath my hand when Percy heaved another sigh. He handed me the bowl.

"Don't be late for Transfiguration," Percy ruffled my hair and lifted the long strap of his bag across his shoulders before marching off.

"There's thirty more minutes before it starts!" I called after him. "Don't leave me, Perce."

All I could see was him waving me away before the doors slammed shut.

With a mouthful of sandwich, I looked at the midget Percy dripped oil on. "Head boy's bit of a prat, isn't he?" before he could say anything, I continued, my nose wrinkled as I patted his greasy hair, "_Tergeo."_

"Thank you," squeaked the wide-eyed midget and he turned to his snickering friends.

I took bite after bite of various foods, my eyes focused on the doors of the Great Hall for Ava or Leslie. I was the only early riser in my dormitory since I usually went for my morning run, which I'd decided to skip today. I wanted one last day before I had to compete with Wood during our runs (his irksome self kept appearing in my sight) and one last, precious day before I would be greeted with a, "My goldfish can walk faster than you".

We all know that he only has a lovely, wonderful pet owl (Quaffle) that's responsible for all the nip marks on his hand.

And I missed the food. But great food comes with a great price, the only other early risers were Percy (who would leave to find a good seat in an empty classroom or do Merlin know's what), Wood, myself and people who I don't give a rat's arse about.

After five minutes worth of blueberries, I had to admit I bore myself. I stomped towards Wood with the grouchiest face I could muster and sat down with a huff.

"I'm not forcing you to sit here, Weasley," he said, scribbling profusely on a length of parchment. He looked at me for the briefest of seconds before dipping his quill in some ink. He bit his lip in concentration as his hands zoomed expertly across the parchment, drawing three stick figures in a 'Hawkshead Attacking Formation'.

"'Parkin's Pincer' would be better if we're against Slytherin," I dug around for my battered playbook and dipped my quill in his inkwell and drew three chasers coming up in different directions, each passing the Quaffle to and fro.

"It'll be harder than it looks," he slumped against the chair. "They'll be bloody violent."

"We can handle it," I put the quill down and closed my eyes. "We have to."

"You, Angelina and Alicia are few of the strongest girls I know. With a little training, we'll be brilliant," he said, keeping his things away.

My eyes snapped open and I cocked my head to the side. "Was that a compliment I heard, Wood?" I asked.

He stopped packing and said in a matter-of-fact tone, "You'd have to be strong to be in the Gryffindor Quidditch team, don't you? We don't take bribes like Slytherin. Your hand's in your tea."

"What?" I said slowly. "Sorry, I didn't realize it, your compliment left me in a daze."

"It wasn't really a compliment but I'm glad I have that effect on you," he quipped.

I scowled at him and took my hand out of the tea-cup. I took a long sip of my cold tea and set it down with a soft thud. When I found that I had no comebacks left, I took another long sip. "Never mind," I muttered.

"Getting along are we?" Leslie's voice broke the silence. She landed on the seat with a loud thump and dumped her bag on the ground, its contents rolling out of it.

"I had a peculiar dream," Ava announced happily. "You were in labour and Oliver was beside you, brandishing a sugar quill at Leslie. All of a sudden, the baby popped out and latched herself on my head!"

"Interesting," Wood wagged his eyebrows, pausing to pop a bit of cereal in his mouth. "My kid's born with precise aim."

"Undoubtedly from me," I said proudly. "She has inherited my extraordinary skills."

"But unfortunately, she doesn't play Quidditch," Leslie laughed as she put her things back into her bag messily. "Tell them the ending, Ava."

Ava smiled ruefully. "The baby wouldn't let go of me. She grew up 'till she was a teenager and she still hung to my head, refusing to loosen her grip. My back was so painful." she shook her head, taking a dainty bite of toast.

"I wish I could bite Wood's head," I muttered.

He smirked. "I didn't know you were into those kinds of things, Weasley," he said as he stood up. "I'll be going now. Don't remind her, Leslie." He dragged Ava with him and she followed willingly, almost tripping over her own feet as she giggled.

"Right," Leslie gave a mock salute, her body leaning forward as she reached for another raisin scone. "You know, I'd think that Ava liked Wood if it wasn't for her huge crush on a younger bloke."

I gave her a stare, refusing to budge and ask her who Ava had a crush on even though I was really itching to know. I'd get it out of Ava later.

"What?" she snapped. My eye twitched slightly as I tried to keep up an unwavering stare.

"What did I forget this time?" I asked and her mouth formed an 'o' shape. She let out a laugh and glanced at her watch. I picked up a piece of bacon, tearing off a bit with my teeth.

"I reckon I can tell you now," she swung her legs over the bench and picked her satchel up. "I'm heading to the library now, 'cause I have a free period and you're late for Transfiguration."

The bacon dropped to my lap as I froze, gawking at her. My gaze flickered from her; to the doors Wood and Ava passed they left moments ago for a class that took ten minutes to get to by walking. Seven if I ran. I narrowed my eyes as I pointed an accusing finger at Leslie. "You," I made violent gestures with my hands and let out a sound of frustration. I stormed off, my hair nearly blinding me and I blew it away as I passed the doors of the Great Hall.

I stopped mid step, turned on the spot and entered the Great Hall once again. My head was held up high, trying to maintain any dignity I had left as I approached a grinning Leslie who was holding my bag up with the tip of her finger.

"Forgot something?" her grin widened as I snatched it from her. I stuck my tongue out at her as the bit that was left of my dignity bounced out of the window, did a few laps around the Quidditch pitch, passed through the goal and threw itself into the lake.

Eyes followed me as I exited the Great Hall, this time with my bag slung over my shoulders. I felt like a herd of elephants during a stampede as I dodged people and ran over firsties. My bag was bumping against my side painfully and I was partially blinded by my red hair. I really should've tied it up in the morning.

By the time I reached the Transfiguration classroom, my hair resembled Potter's and the class had already been going on for thirteen minutes. I took in a deep, shaky breath as I pulled the doors open, sticking my head in.

"How nice of you to join us, Miss Weasley," Professor McGonagall said dryly. Out of the corner of my eye, something resembling a duck with a spout for a head scurried past Ava, who was giving me an apologetic look.

"Sorry Professor, Wood didn't remind me," I shot a glare at Wood who was avoiding my gaze, prodding his teapot. His lips slowly curled up into a smirk, though well hidden from McGonagall.

"It isn't Mr. Wood's responsibility to remind you to be punctual," she said with her back facing me, walking to her desk with slow but long steps. "Detention. The usual time."

It's not like McGonagall didn't believe me. Well, I'd like to believe that anyway. But almost everyone knew I was forgetful and that Wood was easily distracted. So we have this 'tradition' where Wood just happens to 'forget' to remind me about everything (apart from Quidditch practices, but miraculously, I like them enough to remember them) and I'd mumble random words and numbers when Wood was coincidentally translating some very difficult Ancient Runes. My personal favourite was when he translated 'light is the bright phoenix falling grace but tears bring down daa-' instead of 'bright is the light the phoenix brings as a tear falls down with gentle grace'. That was when I screamed in his ear.

But this year, I think it's going to tone down a little. Since we're seventh years and we're supposed to be mature and set an example and the works.

I sat beside Percy, his teapot already transfigured into a green-winged teal duck. It waddled over to me and quacked rather loudly in my ear. I nearly jumped out of my seat. The duck gave me a smug look like Wood's and I twisted in my seat to make sure Wood was still alive. Unfortunately, he was still there with a peeved expression, muttering incantations under his breath. No, it wasn't Wood's reincarnation; the duck just had the same habit of annoying me that Wood had.

"_Evanesco,"_Percy jabbed the duck, successfully making it vanish. He gave me a triumphant smile. "You're supposed to make it disappear afterwards," he explained.

"But won't the duck just waddle away, since you can't see it?" I asked. "And can't I just make the teapot disappear instead of transfiguring it into a duck first?"

"Oh, yes, but McGonagall can just make it visible again, where ever it is," Percy sat up straighter in his seat. "And she'll un-transfigure it, so she would know."

"Fine, then," I huffed as I slouched in my seat.

* * *

I raced eagerly to dinner in one of the many jumpers my mum had presented me with for every birthdays and Christmases, my wet hair soaking my back. All in all, I was rather satisfied with the outcomes of my lessons (Transfiguration was the only bother, other than DADA) and on our first day back, we were already up to our necks with homework.

I lowered myself unto the bench, beside Angelina and Alicia who both looked back at me with suspicion in their eyes. But they should know what was coming; they've been in the team for about two years.

"You should get ready for the worst practices of your life," I declared happily as they stared back.

Angelina chewed her food slowly and Alicia banged her head on the table with a groan. "Didn't we already go through hell in the past practices?" Angelina asked.

"I," Alicia felt the need to emphasize her words with another bang on the table.

"No," I replied, my lips curled into a mischievous grin, "we've got wonderful things planned out for all of you."

"Hate."

"Things like what?" Angelina asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

"My."

"Extra laps, more pus ups, etcetera," I poured a ladleful of gravy on my peas, chicken and potatoes.

Angelina grimaced. "Okay then," she said.  
"Life," Alicia brought her reddened head off the table and gave Angelina a strange look. "Why aren't you reacting that much?"

"Because," she said nonchalantly, examining a roasted potato, "I'll get enough sore muscles without banging myself on the head. And we're going to win this year, and the 'wonderful things'-" she did quotation marks in the air "-will help us win."

I beamed at her, satisfied with her answer. "Brilliant," I said while Alicia, however, scowled. "I hope you both get ready."

I swallowed the last bite of my chicken as dinner disappeared and dessert materialized. I pulled some chocolate tarts to myself as I reckoned whether it would be a proper moment to tell them that I hadn't really talked to Wood about what we were going to do for practices though I was sure that if he already planned something, it would be similar to what I had in mind. But the correct moment never came, as I was too busy stuffing my face with food in a similar fashion to Ron's.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Sorrrrrry for the late update! Bit overhelmed with school and more drama. And thank you for all the reviews/ favourites/ alerts. I usually respond to reviews but I lost track of which one I did or didn't respond to, so tell me if I skipped yours. And shameless plugging, I have a Hunger Games fic, which I don't know if I should continue or not. Thank you so much for leaving a review, they make me day, so review this too? And thanks for sticking with me. (: Btw, I did a tiny bit of foreshadowing here, something that suggests what she'd face later on. Care to guess? I won't tell if you're right or not, though.

* * *

**Chapter** **Four.**

The evening sun was shining on our backs, but it didn't do much to help us battle the cool weather. The clouds were taking on a darker shade every minute that passed and the wind made us shiver violently despite the jumpers and scarves we wore under our Quidditch robes.

"Pass the Quaffle, Alicia!" Wood strained to be heard over the roars of an oncoming rainstorm. "No, don't... over again!"

I leaned forward on my old Cleansweep, remaining my death-like grip on the polished handle as I flew back to my starting position.  
Wood said the 'Parkin's Pincer' move was going to be difficult, and we were proving him right. On our third try, we were determined to get it right, however, on our sixth; we were just cold, wet and agitated.

Fred and George were beating Bludgers across the field to each other, zooming in to defend us from the Bludgers, hitting them away every once in a while.

"Harry," Wood called, balancing himself on the broomstick with one hand. "I'm letting the snitch out now."

Harry nodded, quickly rubbing his spectacles with his robes. I caught a quick glimpse of gold when Wood loosened his fist.  
He turned his focus back to us, beckoning us over. We flew towards his slightly blurred figure and stopped a few feet away from him, swaying dangerously mid-air. Alicia struggled to keep her scarf from flying away, wrapping it tightly around her neck and stuffing the ends in her jumper.

"Slytherin will be vicious," Wood warned as if we didn't know that already. "And you have to watch each other's backs too.

The three of us nodded and I tightened the elastic band holding my hair.

"They always fight for the Quaffle, even among themselves. Most of them won't stick to their tactics, so we have the advantage of having strategies, but the loss of not knowing what moves they'd use," I said, my statement directed to Angelina and Alicia. Wood and I already agreed on what the other team's strengths and weaknesses after our long fight about team strategies last year.

"They would stop at nothing to get the Quaffle," added Wood.

"What about the snitch?" Angelina asked.

"Yeah, won't they focus on getting the snitch more?" Alicia said.

Wood replied after a moment, his wrinkled forehead smoothening over, "They'd want to score more points than us first, and Malfoy has his own dirty tricks, so they wouldn't be that bothered."

"Harry can handle it, he's has more skills than Malfoy," I said, trying to rest my weight on the broomstick handle. My broomstick dipped down and fell a few feet down but I recovered in the nick of time, the beat of my heart pounding loudly in my ears and a flush spread across my cheeks. I looked around to see if anyone noticed my carelessness and fortunately, Angelina, Alicia and Wood were preoccupied with watching Harry fly over with the snitch in his hand.

Thank Merlin no one saw. I'd have died of embarrassment.

But then again, out of the corner of my eyes, I could see one of the twins doubling over with laughter while the second mimicked falling off his broomstick. Prats, those two.

"Try it again, Weasley!" Wood yelled. "Maybe this time you'd actually remember what you're supposed to do!"

"I do remember them!" I screamed back, heading back to the starting point.

Okay, fine, so I did forget them. And I'm partially the reason we would be doing extra laps next practice. As though she could read my mind, Alicia looked over and exaggerated her shivers and pulled her robes closer to her.

Yes, it was mostly my fault.

Without warning, Angelina threw the Quaffle to me. I caught it deftly, moving forwards a little and passed it to Alicia –to me –Angelina –back to me. I lobbed the Quaffle with my remaining strength and it promptly sailed through the goal.

I shrieked with joy, throwing my hands up in celebration. "Yes! Take that, Wood!"

"It was only one goal," Wood yelled back with a small smile. "Hit the showers!"

In a blink of an eye, almost the entire team was back on the ground, lead by Alicia.

* * *

I found myself being lead into an abandoned classroom, Wood's hand tightly gripping my wrist as I resisted, my feet uselessly sliding on the smooth stone floors despite attempts to dig it into the ground.

The rest of the team made their annoyance clear, dragging their feet as if it was a taxing task to lift it for another step. They trudged forwards, muttering complaints loud enough for us to hear. They were putting up a good fight, their voices nearly drowning out the twins and Harry's dramatic conversation at his not being able to go to the Hogsmeade trips.

"I'm not going!" I huffed out, trying to rip my hand out of his grasp. "I smell and I have homework to do."

"I know you smell," Wood swatted the air in front of his nose and I scowled at him. "And our homework is due the day after tomorrow, so you can do it tomorrow."

"Mine's due tomorrow," Angelina muttered, pushing the door open.

"Do it tonight, then," retorted Wood, dumping me unceremoniously on the floor.

"Imagine, Harry," Fred started, looking around the dusty classroom.

"We could be off pranking misfortunate souls," George continued, plopping himself on a wooden chair.

"Wrecking havoc," Fred clutched the left side of his chest, closing his eyes as if in pain.

"-and we're here instead," George shook his head, patting Harry's back.

"For team bonding," Fred grinned at Wood who rolled his eyes.

"We have these so we can be closer and then we can communicate better on the pitch," Wood pointed out, carrying a chair for himself, arranging his chair in between Alicia and Harry.

I snorted, "We communicate well enough." I sat down on his chair and he scowled.

"Not as well as Diggory and his team," he replied as he got another chair, earning giggles from Angelina and Alicia. "What?" he asked irritably.

"He's a looker, isn't he?" asked Angelina.

"And he's single," Alicia said ruefully. "Too bad I'm dating."

"Daniels won't be too glad to hear that," Harry commented.

Alicia waved him off, her lips lifted into a smile, "He knows I'm already mental about him."

"Yeah," I sighed, leaning on the back of my chair. "He does look attractive."

Alicia widened her eyes, turning to look at me. "Are we still talking about Diggory?"

Fred laughed gleefully as the others looked on with gaping mouths except a confused and bemused Harry who studied us with interest.

"What?" I asked, my gaze flickering from Fred to Alicia. "Can't I just say that someone looks nice?"

"She's interested in _Cedric Diggory_," George stated in disbelief. "_Diggory_."

"I'm not," I cleared my throat, looking at Angelina for help. "Tell them I'm not."

"_Are _you?" Angelina asked with a raised eyebrow, leaning forward.

I stiffened under the expectant gazes, my answer on the tip of my tongue. I didn't like Diggory, I was sure of that; he was the enemy after all. He looked nice, I had to admit but I had no feelings for him. But there was this nagging feeling, as if I was missing something. I was feeling nervous.

What the bloody hell was I nervous of?

No, it's obvious I wasn't nervous; it must be something I ate that didn't agree with me.

"Well," Wood said curtly, snapping my attention back to him "Let's begin the game then."

"Let's go with the cliché Muggle game," Alicia said.

"'Truth or Dare'?" Harry asked, a sceptical look on his face.

"Yes, Harry," George said.

"What else? We always play that, since Wood's and my first year in the team. It's tradition," I pointed out.

"Boring, but still a tradition," Wood agreed, looking a little irked.

"So I'll begin," Fred declared, pointing a finger at his own chest. "Angelina!"

Angelina cussed under her breath while Alicia laughed, her shoulders shaking and hand over mouth in anticipation.

"Is it the one we planned, Gred?" asked George, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

My mouth fell open and I laughed unbelievably, shaking my head. It was definitely the one they planned all summer long, the top ten of the list of dares and truths they listed down. Although they pretended to detest our sessions, they really were happy about it, when else could they prank other Gryffindors without suffering the consequences?

"Angelina, the mission that you must carry out –since we'd have proof if you didn't- is to draw a lion on Snape's forehead."

Alicia fell off her chair while Harry looked dumbstruck.

"What?" Angelina roared, her face paling. "Do you reckon I'm suicidal?"

"No, we don't," George threw an arm over Fred's back with a grin.

"Wood, Weasley!" Angelina pleaded. "Tell them I'm not mental."

"She's not mental," I said nonchalantly.

"If it doesn't disturb our Quidditch practices, I'm alright with it," Wood offered.

"Merlin's wrinkly right br-"

"Yes, yes, the next person," Alicia said hastily. "Ange, as planned?"

"Yes," she said through gritted teeth. "But after that, the twins will get it."

"Okay, Arianna?" Alicia said hesitantly. "I know you'll be furious but-"

"My wrath, they will feel my wrath," muttered Angelina, glaring pointedly at the twins who both grinned nervously.

"-it's all for fun," she flashed an uncertain look at someone. "All for fun."

"Out with it," I crossed my arms, aware of the fast beat of my heart pounding loudly in my ears.

"Quickly," Wood mimed a yawn. "It's getting boring."

"Snog Diggory," Alicia breathed out, shielding her face as if I was going to slap her. Though I was considering punching her.

"We should've thought of that," Fred told George.

I gawked at her, slowly shaking my head, "No, no way, I'm not going- how old he is even? _Fifteen? _Wouldn't that be rape?" My voice sounded shrill, like Wood, when he sang in the showers.

"Technically, sixteen, his birthday passed," Angelina chipped in, the corner of her lips now quirked.

"And that wouldn't be rape! I'm the same age as him and I'm dating a seventh year, and it is certainly not rape," Alicia huffed.

"Oh, but isn't it obvious? She doesn't dare to," Wood shook his head patronisingly. "A cowardly Gryffindor, what a surprise." His words hit me like a brick to the head and I turned to him at a snail's pace, stiffening.

"Hey, Oliver," George said, his eyebrows creased. "Isn't that too much?"

"No, no, it's okay," I said, my voice wavering dangerously. " Let's hear what he wants to say."

"Um, can I leave?" Harry asked meekly. He was ignored.

"Are you afraid to do it? Or are you afraid he'd reject you, since you're more of a lad than you are a girl. Since no sane bloke would see you as a girl?" He added, rubbing salt into the wound he created. He might as well have _Crucio-ed _me multiple times and slit me with a dagger.

"Wood," Fred warned.

"Oliver, stop, you've gone too far," Angelina added softly.

A flush spread over the back of my neck and the tip of my ears were burning with heat. "Fine, a coward, am I? Where's Diggory now? He's probably in the library?"

"Arianna, you don't have to prove anything, we kno-" Alicia began.

"Library?" I asked curtly.

"Yes, obviously, he's almost always there," Wood crossed his arms over his chest.

"Follow me then," I stood up, not bothering to pick my chair up as it fell back.

I trudged out the room, ignoring the rest of the lot scurrying behind me as I stomped my foot against the floor as hard as I could. How dare he call me a coward? And as much as I acted like a violent, Quidditch and sport obsessed guy, I was a girl, for Merlin's sake, and I definitely did not like being called a cowardly girl, but oops, no sane bloke would see me as a girl!

The flames flickered, casting shadows that danced endlessly on our figures. The rest were trying to keep up with me as I was so nearly sprinting to the Library. What was it she said, I didn't have to prove myself? But I did need to. I needed to.

I kicked the door open, nearly shouting as pain shot up my leg. Madam Pince stood up, her seat scraping against stone like cutlery dragged across a plate.

"I will have no kicking of my doors-" she shouted, her hair stuck all over the place as if the strands of her hair where buzzing with electricity.

"Diggory. Diggory, where the bloody hell are you?" I demanded firmly, paying no attention to the whisperings and the curses from the Gryffindor Quidditch team. My eyes landed on the table where he sat, his friend stopped mid sentence, his Hufflepuff scarf tied around his forehead.

"Uh, I'm here," he stood up. His sentence ended with his voice raised a few notes higher, like he was asking a question. His friends sat scattered around him nudging each other, one even daring to comment out loud ("'ell, Diggory, what did'ya do?").

I marched towards him, a determined glint in my eyes, halting directly in front of him. "I apologize for what I'm about to do."

"Wha-?" I stopped him, pulling his tie so that he bent down to reach mine (sixteen and taller than me, wasn't that bloody unfair?) and crashed my lips to his. He stiffened, and started to relax as my lips moved against his. He just began to put his arms around my neck as I pulled away.

"I apologize again," I said awkwardly, avoiding his eyes. "It was great by the way." I gave a thumbs up and strode towards Wood, the rest of the team blurring out of my sight.

"Still a coward?" I sneered, and at lost of what to do next, I stomped on his foot with a grunt.

As I tried to fight the traitor tears that threatened to come out for no reason that I knew at all (I wasn't hurt, I wasn't sad, it was only Wood, who cared about him), a statement from George made my day.

"Way to go, Wood."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five.**

No sane girl would wake up at five in the morning to run in the biting cold, when she could sleep for another two hours and wake up, fresh and happy, to wear makeup and choose nice clothes for her Hogsmeade date. The differences between normal girls and Arianna Weasley, the girl who can't be called a lass because she's too much of a bloke. It wasn't my fault that I preferred sweating in my running clothes more than wearing short skirts so tight that I couldn't take a step, using pink powder that increased my urge to scratch my cheeks till they bled and giggle incessantly. It was perfectly justifiable.

My pace quickened. Running was supposed to clear my mind from all thoughts about Wood. And of all days, today was the only day when running added emphasis on the words he had uttered. I even took precautions to avoid bumping into him since our paths often met. I began my run an hour earlier than he usually would, and kept away from my usual trail around the lake.

And yet, as I jogged along the edge of the Forbidden Forest, the silhouette of an idiot was coming towards me. I expected him to turn around, but I became doubtful when he started to wave frantically and shout my name.

Oh, but is Arianna my name? It's a name for girls and only insane blokes acknowledged that I have girl parts and breasts. But then again, the last time I checked, Wood's head was terribly damaged.

I am pathetic. I should stop and face him like a woman that plays Quidditch brilliantly with fiery red hair and freckles that would attack all gits named Oliver Wood.  
But I am Cowardly Arianna, so of course I sprinted in the opposite direction.

"Weasley! I want to apologize!" he panted, his voice nearing me.

"I don't know you. Stop stalking me," my reply was barely audible over the pounding of my pulse in my ears.

"Of course not, it's not like we've been in the same house and team for years." He growled, "Stop you bloody woman."

"Exactly," I stated, ignoring his sarcasm. "Who the hell are you?" By that time, my legs were definitely on fire. I didn't fancy sprinting away from blockheads who have arses where their mouths should be. I didn't even enjoy _thinking_ about sprinting at five-thirty in the morning when cats and werewolves and Oliver Woods can attack me in the dark.

"Stop bloody running, we need to talk!" I looked over to see him stop and rest his hands on his knees, his hair glistening with sweat. And then I realized he was shirtless; fudging shirtless in the middle of the Scottish weather. I had to admit, albeit grudgingly, he looked a little nice. Every time I saw him in the changing room where he would flex his muscles and try to stuff himself in my face, insisting that I secretly wanted him and that Puddlemere United would beat the Harpies in their next game, he looked nice.

I hoped he'd get a cold.

"Merlin, Weasley, stop!" he shouted. "Or I'll... I'll..."

I let out an attractive and not at all pig-like snort. "Hah! You'll what?" I stopped to face him and crossed my arms over my chest. "You don't have any authority over me."

"I could ban you from playing in the Gryffindor Quidditch team," he retorted.

I stiffened and felt my eyes narrow into a glare. He couldn't kick me out even if he wanted to, but he had the nerve to throw threats around when he wanted to apologize? He seemed to realize that I was angry when blood started to rush to my face and took a step back, his palms out as if surrendering, as I stepped forward.

"You dare endanger my spot in the team just to make me stop running?" I asked, my voice raising an octave higher with every word.

"No, it was just," he said sheepishly, "a slip of the tongue, I didn't mean to-"

I threw my shoe at him as soon as I detached it from my leg, and etched the memory of his astonished look when the shoe hit him squarely on the head into my brain.

"That's for being a snobbish, idiotic prat." I stated. I threw the remaining shoe, which was unfortunately caught by him this time as he was prepared for it. "And that's for chasing me and wasting my time."

"Weasley," he flailed his arms, and therefore my blue running shoes, in the air. "Can't you just listen for onc-"

I was running away a lot these days.

* * *

"So," began Ava. "You're not going to Hogsmeade because-"

"You threw your shoes at him," finished Leslie, with narrowed eyes.

"Yes," I mumbled against my Harpies-coloured pillow. "It's such a pity tha-"

"That you hit a handsome, attractive bloke with your stinky shoe," Leslie interjected, shaking her head with mock moroseness.

"That," I continued, "My shoe had to suffer. Now I'd have to clean it." I let out a dramatic sigh, "Repeatedly."

"Why don't you wear your Mary-Janes, then?" Ava suggested, ignoring Leslie's eye roll.

"My what-ty whats?" I cocked an eyebrow upwards. Melinda Edgar and Arabella Staunton, the other two girls in the dorm whose presence I don't acknowledge if I could, stood up. Edgar was a flirt –the shy, giggly, oh-you-brilliant-brilliant-man type, but overall she was average, quiet and always with Staunton, the typical, clichéd girl that went prancing around with too-tight shirts that left little to the imagination. She was also the reason why our room smelled like, '_Temptation; the inviting scent of berries, roses and love', _though the more appropriate phrase would be, '_Temptation; when decaying flowers and sickly sweet scents are bottled'._

Staunton gaped at me, revealing her shiny, white teeth and widened her light hazel eyes. "You d-don't know what M-mary-Janes are?" she stuttered. "You wear them every day!"

_"_The shoes you wear to classes," Edgar explained and drew her eyes away, looking at the floor.

"I call them school shoes," I said dryly.

"Well," Staunton said, her voice sickly sweet like her pink bottle of _Temptation._ "They're called Mary-Janes."

"Let's go, Richard and Matthew will be waiting," Edgar pulled Staunton with her.

When they closed the door, I turned towards Leslie and Ava, screwing my face up as I imitated Staunton, "They're called Jammy-Janes."

"Mary-Janes." Ava corrected.

I made a face at her.

"I don't care what they're called, but you're coming with us to buy boxfuls of liquorish wands and pasties and then we're going to gulp down Butterbeer until we choke," Leslie announced.

"But I don't want to see Wood's face," I whined.

"Too bad, 'cause you will," said Ava, "and I know just the thing for you to wear."

I calmly walked over to Staunton's bed and picked up the bottle of _Temptation _that they equally hated. "To prove how much I don't want to step out of this dorm." I unscrewed the bottle and took a long whiff. And nearly fell to the ground and choked as the smell of my horror overwhelmed my senses.

"Merlin," Leslie rolled her eyes. "Such a drama queen."

The thing they got to choose for me was my shoes. Which were flats. Green flats with tiny green bows that I wanted to rip off but Leslie threatened to fill my shampoo with pink dye if I 'maimed her precious shoes'. They said it looked nice with the black pants and the shirt with deer prints over it. And then they promptly slapped their palms to their faces when I shrugged on my Harpies hoodie that Bill gave me last year.

Our first stop was the crowded Honeydukes, where Ava, Leslie and I plied our arms with liquorish wands, pasties, chocolate frogs, sugar quills, chocoballs, and bars and bars of chocolate and huge slabs of fudge that will be hidden under our beds and consumed at odd hours of the night.

"So," I said as I piled the last packet of chocolate frog on the top of my unbalanced pile. "Split the bill into three as always?"

Ava agreed. "But it's your turn to queue up," she said to Leslie.

"Shit. Merlin, no. Have you seen how long the line is? I'm not gonna stand there." Several boxes of chocoballs fell from her pile. "Arianna will."

I laughed, "Of course I will. I'll get a table for us in The Three Broomsticks and bye, I'm leaving."

She cussed at me, quite loudly, and eyes lingered on her as I pushed my way out of the shop.

By the time I reached the door of The Three Broomsticks, I thought my feet were frozen. A warm rush of air and the jangle of bells welcomed me as I stepped through the door, into the dimly lit, cozy room. It wasn't packed with students and teachers yet, as most were off buying dungbombs or broom polish (which I would have to get before I left) or like Ava and Leslie, stuck in the long, long queue that came with buying wonderful fudge, and only half of the tables were occupied. I chose the table far from the rowdy Slytherins -the two fourth year girls hanging on to every word the two boys said, and sat near three Ravenclaws, two of which having an animated conversation about the latest sighting of Sirius Black and the other reading a book claiming to know fail proof ways to charm witches.

I had to get that for Ron. Maybe then he'd stop saying the wrong thing to Hermione and she'd stop hitting him with my Quidditch Rule book. Poor little oblivious bugger, that bloody brother of mine. Anyone could see that Hermione fancies him.

I never ordered a drink (and if I did, I would've had to carry it to the table myself) so I was gobsmacked when Madam Rosmerta came over, laden with a tankard of Butterbeer and a brown paper bag.

"I'm sorry," I started. "I didn't order anything."

"You didn't," she agreed. "But someone else did. It must be your lucky day."

I thought back about how I lost my shoes and how Wood managed to insult me while attempting to apologize. "Not really," I replied, accepting the Butterbeer.

"But I, on the other hand," she began walking back after she handed the paper bag. "Beg to differ." She winked over her shoulder and scurried off to wait on other customers.

I pulled the bag towards me, and after a moment of hesitation, opened it. My blue shoes stared back at me, clearly _tergeo-d_, with a slip of parchment on their tops.

_Sorry. –Oliver Wood._

And I didn't know why that little slip of paper made the corner of my lips lift involuntarily. That gesture, with the Butterbeer and my _tergeo-d _shoes and the little note seemed almost... _sweet._ Now that I thought back about it, I had overreacted but there was no way I was going to apologize. My pride wouldn't let me.

"What are you so cheery about?" Leslie interrupted my internal monologue, plopping herself clumsily on the chair while Ava calmly dragged her chair back.

"She's all glow-y," she commented with a sly smile. "I wonder if that's because of the little bag on her lap."

"And the mug of Butterbeer," added Leslie.

"Maybe," I said, discreetly slipping the parchment into my pocket. Confusion was poking my thoughts, though not enough to wipe the grin off my face. It wasn't the first time Wood made me smile (the first time was when I hit a bludger at him) but it usually involved him getting injured- albeit not seriously- and certainly not over a tiny piece of parchment with three words on it.

"I wonder..." Ava trailed off and tried to peek into the bag.

"It's her shoes," Leslie announced proudly. "You can see the shape of them. So, you know who's responsible for that smile."

"Kill yourselves," I huffed, half smiling. "And get your own Butterbeers before you finish mine."

* * *

The Great Hall was beautifully decorated, with flaming orange streamers dancing in mid-air, flickering candles in floating pumpkins with misshapen faces carved into them and live bats fluttering around.

"Merlin," Leslie said with her mouth full of her third helping of caramel and butterscotch ice-cream. "I love food."

"I," I said, feeling positively green. "Want to vomit."

"Shut up," Ava groaned. "Both your voices are making me nauseous."

I flicked a nut at her, stretching as I stood up. "I'm leaving. I reckon I can't stand the sight of another-" I shuddered. "-ice cream."

"Go away and let me enjoy consuming sweets until I get sick," Leslie said loudly. "And Ava's saying with me."

"In that case, that's your last spoon of ice cream," announced Ava.

"As if," said Leslie.

I shook my head as I exited the Great Hall. It was sad to think that after a few more months, I would never eat until I got sick with them or hear Leslie curse inanimate objects or Ava reprimanding the both of us on a daily basis.

"Oi." A familiar voice called out –Wood.

I slowed my pace and he caught up, panting slightly and fell into pace with me. "Oi to you too."

"Did you get the bag?" he asked, pushing his hands into his pocket.

"Yes," I answered.

"So, am I..?" he trailed off.

"Okay," I replied.

"Okay," he echoed.

We walked through the corridors in uncomfortable silence, the awkwardness thick enough to be cut with a knife. Some students walked pass us, giving us odd looks. It was a curious sight; Oliver Wood and Arianna Weasley, the two students you'd never see having a conversation without arguing, walking together without being held at wand point.

"Hey," he began as we neared a crowd surrounding the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. "What's going on?"

"I don't know," I scrunched my eyebrows together, trying to look over heads on the tip of my toes. I poked a third year in the back. "What's happened?"

"Um, I don't know," she said meekly. Her eyes widened as her gaze shifted from Wood, to me, and back to Wood. "Jenny, Weasley's standing _beside_ Wood!" she hissed to the blonde beside her.

I all but rolled my eyes. Isn't that absolutely _interesting_ to gossip about? Oh, look, just half a foot's distance away from each other! Let's not take into account that we are in a cluster of students who are pushing everyone they can reach to see what the ruddy hell was going on. I pulled a Percy, shouting obnoxiously loudly that I am a prefect, let me through!

"No chance," a fourth year snorted, his friends sniggered.

I narrowed my eyes, the word 'arsehole' on the tip of my tongue but then Wood stopped me, saying, "Hey, midget, is that really how you talk to your seniors?"

They stopped sniggering and I hid a smirk, avoiding Wood's gaze. Wasn't it a curious day; with him literally chasing me around the school compound and then insulting fourth years for me.

Eh, it was normal. Seventh years all insulted fourth years when possible. It was an unwritten guideline for seventh years. Right before, thou shalt spike the drinks when possible. Or in my case, not rat on the twins and enjoy the alcohol but use the information to threaten them if needed.

"Let me through, please," came Percy's voice as he pushed his way through the crowd. Finally, our question will be answered! "What's the holdup here? You can't _all _have forgotten the password – excuse me, I'm head boy-"

And all of a sudden, it was as if there were dementors, the way a chill seemed to spread through the corridor. All chatter abruptly stopped.

"Merlin," I said exasperated, "What's going o-"

Soundlessly, Wood tapped my shoulder, pointing towards the portrait where The Fat Lady should be, but there was only huge, menacing slashes across it and chunks of canvas littered on the floor.

"Somebody get Professor Dumbledore," my twin's voice was sharp. "Quick."

* * *

A/N: I apologize for the delay. I honestly didn't notice that two months passed. And school and school activities have been a pain in the arse lately. Just got out of one, only to be pulled into another. Thank you for all the reviews, have some imaginary Honeydukes fudge from me. I'm so, so lucky to have readers like you all. Aand sorry for any mistakes.


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